


Flavorful Bonding

by Vorabiza (Biza)



Series: Flavorful [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Drama, Exhibitionism, Graphic Sex, Humor, M/M, Romance, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-26
Updated: 2017-03-28
Packaged: 2018-10-11 08:19:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10460145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Biza/pseuds/Vorabiza
Summary: A follow-up to “Malfoy Flavor”. Harry and Draco’s bonding/wedding with a mix of Muggle and Pureblood traditions.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was a gift fic for Bookgirl in appreciation of her generosity. She requested a fic that included Harry and Draco’s bonding from “Malfoy Flavor”, along with the wedding night. Lots of sweetness and romance ahead, along with the most romantic, sappy kink I could unintentionally come up with! Enjoy! ~~Biza

“Harry Dustin Potter Snape!”

Harry perked a brow in interest. He was used to being called a variety of names, but that was a new combination. He exchanged a glance with Draco but didn’t have time to say anything before Severus swept into the room, sending them each a death glare before levelling his gaze on Harry.

“Is there a problem?” Harry asked. He’d been lying comfortably with his head in Draco’s lap, but he sat up at the thunderous expression on his father’s face.

Severus’ nostrils flared. “Harry,” he ground out. “Would you care to explain why you are here in your room with Draco?”

“Um, because I find him to be pleasant company?” Harry suggested.

“Indeed,” Severus sneered. “Might I suggest you deal with some of the _unpleasant_ company yourself?”

Harry grimaced. “You haven’t scared everyone off yet?” he asked in mild disappointment.

Draco sniggered as Severus snorted in disgust. “It is not for a lack of effort on my part,” he said snidely. “These are your obnoxious guests.”

“Everyone is driving me mental,” Harry admitted. “I just want to bond with Draco. I don’t care about all of that other stuff.”

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose. “You need a mother to deal with all of this,” he muttered.

Harry smirked at him. “Lucius works well enough as my other parent,” he said, highly amused.

“Lucius is being an arse,” Severus snapped. “Why you wish to bond yourself to a Malfoy is beyond my understanding.”

Harry blinked in surprise before he burst out laughing.

“What did my father do now?” Draco asked curiously.

“He does not see fit to deal with the _tedious details_ ,” Severus spat sarcastically. “I believe he finds it quite amusing to simply observe me dealing with all of your guests and the final details before your bonding this evening.”

Harry opened his mouth to reply, but shut it again as Severus continued his rant.

“In the last hour I have been forced to listen to Arthur and Ms. Granger blather incessantly over the introduction of Muggle customs at your bonding. I have confiscated enough product from the twins to cause me much concern over everyone’s safety this evening. Molly is already blubbering because she recognized the display of lilies in the Great Hall, yet still finds it necessary to question my every decision. I have been forced to break up a fight between Ms. Parkinson and Mr. Weasley over what is considered to be appropriate attire for such an occasion. Mr. Zabini and Mr. Finnegan are behaving quite suspiciously. However, I was waylaid in following them, simply to be offered a blasted lemon drop.”

“And you’re wondering why I’m hiding out in my room?” Harry asked when Severus finally paused.

Severus’ glare was quite malicious as he stared down at Harry and Draco. 

“Uh, you’re welcome to sit down and join us,” Harry offered, hoping to appease his father.

“You will go find your guests and deal with them,” Severus said, his voice low and extremely dangerous.

“They’re not all my friends,” Harry said petulantly.

Severus’ attention shifted to Draco. “Then you will help him.”

~*~*~*~

“Dustin Snape!”

Harry sighed as he dropped his forehead to Draco’s shoulder. They’d been snogging quite happily in Draco’s old dorm room until Pansy’s dulcet tones rang out.

“Fucking hell, Pansy,” Draco hissed, his arms tightening around Harry. “Do you think you could announce our location any louder?”

Pansy’s smirk was rather vicious before she opened her mouth wide. “I found them!” she shouted loudly over her shoulder.

Seamus was grinning widely as he came up behind Pansy, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his chin on the top of her head. He didn’t say anything but, in Draco’s opinion, the knowing grin was irritating enough.

“Any more bloodhounds following you and attempting to sniff us out?” Draco spat.

Seamus’ grin didn’t falter, but Pansy’s fists landed on her hips as she glared at them.

“I think she’s under the impression that makes her look intimidating,” Harry observed quietly.

Draco snorted in amusement as Pansy’s eyes widened in outrage.

“Dustin, it is your friends wrecking havoc throughout the castle,” she spat. “You would think the _Conqueror_ would be capable of dealing with them rather than hiding out in the Slytherin dorms.”

Harry gaped at her, hurt by that more than he probably should be, but feeling stung regardless because of her tone. All of their friends knew how much Harry hated being called all the stupid nicknames the press gave him. He was happy with a lot of names, but that sure as hell wasn’t one of them.

“Get. Out.” Draco was furious. “I will not allow you to insult him today.”

Pansy had looked shocked as soon as the words were out of her mouth, and between Draco’s snarling and Harry’s hurt expression, she was now extremely apologetic.

“Dustin, I’m sorry,” she said, risking Draco’s wrath to come sit on the bed beside them and give Harry a hug.

“It’s fine,” Harry said dismissively. “I should be used to it. I just didn’t expect to hear it today.”

“You shouldn’t have to hear it from our friends at all,” Draco said irritably, not nearly as forgiving.

Harry rolled his eyes. “I hear it from our friends, and everyone else, all the time,” he pointed out. “I’m regularly teased about being the bloody Conqueror.”

“Teased, yes. Insulted, no,” Draco said, still glaring at Pansy.

Harry abruptly shoved Draco backwards onto the bed and moved to straddle his hips, smirking down at his boyfriend. “You _like_ me being the Conqueror,” he said silkily, with a roll of his hips for emphasis.

Draco’s breath hitched, and his eyes fluttered shut. Harry leaned down to kiss him, but Pansy stopped him, pulling on his sleeve.

“Stop that,” she snapped.

“Why?” Harry asked disbelievingly. Pansy was known for encouraging their affections, not stopping them. Draco was back to glaring at her, but Seamus was also staring at his girlfriend incredulously.

“You’re bonding today,” Pansy said, in a tone that indicated she was trying to explain something to a five-year-old.

“So?” Harry said blankly, playing the part for her.

“So, don’t you think you should save it for tonight?” she said pointedly.

Harry leered at her. “Do you really think that if I have my wicked way with Draco now, that I won’t be able to get it up for him later?”

From the expressions crossing Pansy’s face, Harry was fairly certain he’d conjured visions for her that she was now contemplating. Thinking he could get away with it now, he leaned back down to kiss Draco. Once again, however, he was jerked back.

“No,” Pansy declared firmly. “It’s not proper. You should be preparing for your bonding this evening and dealing with your guests.”

“I’m going to deal with certain guests,” Draco snarled at Pansy, sitting up and pushing Harry off of him so they could both stand.

“Oh, leave her alone,” Harry said, grabbing Draco’s wand hand before he could do anything drastic. “Let’s just go.”

~*~*~*~

“Harry James Potter!”

“Bloody buggering hell,” Draco groaned.

“I tried telling you it wouldn’t work to hide out in the Gryffindor dorm,” Harry said miserably, rolling to curl up against Draco’s side instead of lying on top of him.

“You haven’t lived up here for the last year,” Draco retorted. “ _Why_ would they look for you here?”

“Harry!” Hermione screeched. “What are you doing with Draco?”

“Well, I was trying to get off with him, but we keep getting interrupted,” Harry said.

“You’re getting married to him today!” Hermione exclaimed. “You shouldn’t even be seeing him until the ceremony.”

“Why?” Draco asked curiously, his interest piqued despite himself.

“It’s bad luck!” Hermione said, clearly in distress over the matter.

“Oi! Hermione, it’s just Muggle superstition,” Harry said, trying to calm her down.

“If anyone attracts bad luck, it’s you, mate,” Ron said, coming into the dorm. “I’m not sure you should be tempting more.”

“Is it really bad luck to see each other before the bonding?” Draco asked Harry.

Harry rolled his eyes. “It’s bad luck for the groom to see the bride. Since neither of us is a bloody bride, I don’t see the problem.”

“But look at what you’re wearing for the ceremony,” Hermione pointed out.

Harry glared at her. He’d already gone several rounds with Draco regarding their attire for the bonding. He did _not_ need Hermione’s input.

“Wearing white does not make either one of us a bloody bride,” he ground out.

Hermione sniffed. “Certainly neither of you are pure.”

Draco sat up abruptly, dumping Harry to the side. “Malfoys are as pure as they come,” he declared hotly.

Harry groaned, pulling the pillow over his head.

~*~*~*~

“Potter, Snape, soon-to-be Malfoy!”

Harry groaned. At least this odd, sing-song greeting was cheerful.

“Do you think there’s a reason why they always address you and neglect to even recognize my existence?” Draco asked curiously.

“Awww, you know we love you, too, Draco,” Blaise said happily, bouncing onto the bed the Room of Requirement had created for Harry and Draco. “Harry’s just got so many names that it’s fun to play with.”

“I think he just called me boring,” Draco drawled sardonically.

Harry laughed, running his hand in lazy circles over Draco’s bare chest. They’d managed to lose their shirts before anyone found them this time. “You will _never_ be boring, love,” he said in amusement.

Neville spoke up quietly from the end of the bed. “You two have the entire castle in an uproar, and no one can even find you,” he said. “I think that leaves you out of the boring category.”

Draco scowled. “No one can find us, my arse,” he snapped.

“It is rather ironic that I could hide for a bloody year successfully, but can’t manage to hide even long enough to snog you properly now,” Harry said.

“Oh, you were succeeding quite well with the snogging,” Draco said, smiling lasciviously. “Until this bloody Gryffindor duo showed up,” he added.

“I’m not a Gryffindor,” Blaise protested.

“Wannabe,” Harry and Draco said in unison, smirking at him.

“Hmpfh,” Blaise pouted, crossing his arms over his chest. “At least Neville appreciates me.”

Neville smiled warmly at his boyfriend, and Blaise’s cheerful countenance was back instantly.

Harry and Draco rolled their eyes. “What do you want, anyway?” Harry asked. “We’re rather busy here, relieving stress.”

“While I do hate to interrupt, I’m afraid we need you out of here so we can set the room up for later,” Blaise said apologetically.

~*~*~*~

“Draco Lucius Malfoy!”

“’Bout fucking time it was your turn,” Harry muttered.

“Did I actually _say_ I wanted more attention?” Draco grumbled irritably. “I think not.”

Sighing, Harry rolled onto his back to gaze up at the towering figure of his soon-to-be . . . father-in-law? If Lucius was practically his father already, did it make sense to add the “in-law” after he and Draco were bonded? Considering the mutinous features, it might be wise to distance himself all together.

“Hello, Father,” Draco drawled, casually shifting the sheets to cover them a little better.

“What, may I ask, are you two doing?” Lucius sneered. “And if you answer in any way regarding your sexual activities, I will curse you appropriately.”

“Practicing our transfiguration,” Draco said smoothly.

Harry attempted to suppress his laughter. They’d found an out-of-the-way classroom and transfigured a couple of the desks into the bed they were currently lying in, and fluffy pillows had been transfigured from some books off the shelves.

“Are the two of you even remotely aware of the time?” Lucius asked.

Harry and Draco exchanged a glance before shrugging. They’d been rather preoccupied.

Lucius sighed heavily. “It is far past time for you to be getting ready for the ceremony,” he said. “No sons of mine are going to present themselves for such an important occasion in this state of dishevel.”

If Harry hadn’t been naked under the sheets, he would’ve given Lucius a big hug. He settled for beaming brightly at being referred to as one of Lucius’ sons.

Lucius gave him a wry smirk. “You will actually take on the Malfoy name if you can get yourself ready for your own ceremony,” he drawled sardonically.

~*~*~*~

Ready, except for his robes, Harry slipped into his father’s sitting room.

“Father?” he called.

“Is something wrong?” Severus asked, sweeping into the room from his bedroom.

Harry stared, distracted by his father’s appearance.

Severus smirked in amusement. “Did you think I was going to embarrass my son by arriving in my potion’s robes?”

“Of course not,” Harry denied. “I just didn’t expect to _ever_ see you wear the colour red, let alone look so good in it.”

The blood-red, velvet robes trimmed in black suited Severus far better than Harry ever would have expected. For once, his shiny black hair was highlighted by his robes rather than blending in.

Severus gazed at Harry soberly. “Aside from the fact that I received Lucius’ approval, and he professed that I was not making myself look utterly ridiculous, I wanted some way to honour my son and his mother.”

Harry swallowed heavily. “Thank you,” he said softly.

The next thing he knew, he was curled up in his father’s lap in one of the armchairs in front of the fireplace. “I’ll mess up your robes,” he protested.

Severus ignored him, holding on to Harry tightly.

“Do you think Mum used to hold me like this?”

“I’m sure she did,” Severus answered. “I’m sure she held onto you, never wanting to let you go.”

“It was probably more appropriate when I was just a baby, instead of seventeen,” Harry murmured, soaking up his father’s comfort, regardless.

“Perhaps,” Severus agreed. His voice was almost inaudible when he spoke again. “But I don’t want to let you go, even now.” 

“I’m only bonding with Draco, Father,” Harry said. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Severus sighed. “I missed so much of your childhood, but you are not a child any longer, in any sense of the word.”

Harry was damned if he was going to have red eyes from crying at his bonding. “I’m sure it’s not going to stop you from treating me as one,” he said, trying to lighten the mood. “Draco and I still have another year of school and I’m sure you’ll find plenty of opportunities to remind both of us of how immature we are.”

Severus snorted in amusement. “Your behaviour today being a fine example.”

Harry gave his father another quick hug before sliding from his lap and smirking down at him. “The way I see it, it is mine and Draco’s day and we can do whatever the bloody hell we want.” He grimaced. “Not that we ever got to _do_ what we wanted,” he admitted.

Severus shook his head in exasperation. “I would have expected you to have some sense of manners and tradition by now,” he said. “Surely Draco, at least, has the sense of what is proper.”

Harry arched a brow. “And I don’t have any idea of what’s proper?”

“Not that you exhibit if it does not suit you,” Severus said dryly. “Clearly it has not suited you today.”

Harry shrugged, unapologetic. There was a knock at the door before he could respond and he went to answer it.

“Harry, it’s almost time,” Hermione said anxiously. “Aren’t you ready yet?”

“Oi! He’s dressed, isn’t he?” Ron said.

“But his robes!” Hermione exclaimed.

Harry shook his head as Remus stepped around them and greeted him with a warm hug.

“Gryffindors,” Severus muttered.

“Hello, sir,” Hermione said sheepishly. Ron nodded, but didn’t say anything. Neither were quite used to being around their professor outside of the classroom.

“You look well, Severus,” Remus greeted warmly.

Severus acknowledged him with a nod. Harry looked on happily. He knew that all of them were making an extra effort to be civil for his sake.

“You are just missing one thing,” Remus said.

“And what would that be?” Severus sneered.

Remus calmly produced a single, white lily and moved to pin it to Severus’ robes. Severus stood stock still and allowed it without comment.

“Perfect,” Harry said softly, as Remus finished.

Severus softened and gave Harry a small smile.

Harry looked around at them. “You all look wonderful.”

Ron shifted uncomfortably, tugging at his collar. “I reckon I look all right, but did Malfoy search out the most uncomfortable clothing he could find for us?” he complained.

“Ron!” Hermione scolded, elbowing him in the ribs.

Harry shrugged. “Be thankful I talked him out of putting all the blokes in Slytherin green,” he said, smirking.

Ron shuddered. “I would have looked like a bloody Christmas tree,” he said with a grimace.

The others laughed as there was another knock on the door. Harry opened it to have Pansy and Blaise hustle into the room.

“Why aren’t you with Draco?” Harry asked, frowning at them.

“And where’s Neville and Seamus?” asked Ron.

Pansy sniffed haughtily. “Seamus and Neville thought they’d prove they were brave Gryffindors and stay with Draco.”

“Draco’s rather . . . explosive at the moment,” Blaise said, shuddering.

“Is something wrong?” Harry asked.

“Oh no,” Pansy declared. “There’s not a bloody thing wrong, but he’s threatening everyone if this doesn’t go bloody perfect for _you_ ,” she accused.

“He’s only been bearable when he’s around you,” Blaise said ruefully.

Harry sighed. “He has been a pain in the arse with all the details for our bonding,” he admitted.

“I reckon we should’ve been grateful you’ve been keeping him occupied all day,” Pansy agreed.

“His father is talking to him now, and trying to get him to calm down,” Blaise said. He exchanged a glance with Pansy.

“What is it?” Harry asked warily.

“Draco’s just a little nervous,” Pansy said quietly. “He really does want everything to be perfect for you.”

“I just want him,” Harry said softly. “I don’t care about everything else. I thought he knew this.”

“He does,” Pansy said. “But you know Draco.”

“Yeah, I do,” Harry said fondly.

~*~*~*~

“I can’t believe he’s making you wait like this,” Hermione said irritably.

Harry shrugged, unconcerned.

“He’s probably checking his hair for the thousandth time,” Pansy grumbled.

Harry stood quietly next to his father in the Entrance Hall. It didn’t surprise him in the least that Draco was running late.

“You all right, mate?” Ron asked.

“I’m fine,” Harry answered. His heart was pumping madly with the adrenaline rush of it all, but he wasn’t really nervous. He wanted this with every fibre of his being.

“You look incredibly gorgeous,” Pansy said on a sigh.

“So confident and poised,” Hermione agreed. “I’d surely be a nervous wreck on my wedding day.”

“Especially if you were marrying Malfoy,” Ron muttered.

“Harry’s the only person brave enough to willingly bond with Draco,” Blaise said.

“I concur,” Severus said smoothly.

Harry simply smiled. As the others continued to talk quietly as they waited, he studied each of them. Ron may have complained about his attire, but he couldn’t have looked more handsome. The midnight blue robes that Draco had chosen for the males suited Ron’s colouring. Ron, like all of them, had grown up over the last year. His arm was thrown over Hermione’s shoulder, and he was relaxed and chatting casually with the Slytherins.

Hermione was wearing the beautiful, pale-green that Draco had chosen for the girls. Harry knew she’d asked for Pansy’s help, and her hair fell in gorgeous curls down her back. She leaned into Ron’s side, obviously content where she was. Harry was sure that at some point in time he would be attending their wedding. He was incredibly grateful they were here to attend his, and that they were being so supportive.

Pansy and Blaise were as perfectly groomed as they usually were, but even Harry could tell that they’d taken extra care today. Seamus and Neville were at their sides, looking incredibly handsome and comfortable where they were. Harry smiled as he realized they also looked rather relieved to be back with their partners rather than attending to Draco.

He couldn’t ask for a better group of friends. After the way he’d deceived everyone the last year, he hadn’t been sure that he’d have any friends left. He was extremely grateful and proud to have them all here today.

“Are you ready for this?” Severus asked quietly.

Harry looked up at him and smiled. “Yeah, I am,” he answered.

Severus sighed and nodded.

At the sound of footsteps, they all quieted and turned towards the entrance to the dungeons. Draco had used the Slytherin dorms to prepare for the wedding. Harry’s eyes lit up as Draco and Lucius came into view. He barely spared a passing glance for Lucius.

“Draco,” he breathed.

Draco smiled, his own eyes radiating happiness. “I knew you’d look gorgeous in that, Angel,” he said smugly.

Harry laughed lightly. “You’re the one who looks like an angel today, wearing white from head-to-toe.”

“You both look like royalty,” Pansy said, beaming at her best friends.

“I still don’t understand this bloody angel business,” Ron muttered, earning himself another elbow to the ribs from Hermione and glares from everyone else present.

He and Draco were both wearing pure white robes of a rich, soft velvet. They were long in the back and Harry had worried that it’d make them look like wedding gowns, but he had to admit, instead it managed to make them look like royalty. With Draco’s white-blond hair and pale skin, he’d been sure that white was a horrible choice, but Draco took on an ethereal appearance.

“You are both regal in appearance, befitting of a Malfoy,” Lucius drawled. “Now, shall we get this started?”

Harry’s heart started beating more wildly as everyone took their places. He took a couple of calming breaths as the doors opened and the music started. He kept his eyes locked on Draco as the others began to pair off and enter the Great Hall. First Pansy and Seamus, then Ron and Hermione, Blaise and Neville and finally Lucius and Severus. Harry and Draco would walk down together.

Harry knew their friends would be seated at the front, but their fathers would stand beside them. This entire process was a little confusing for him, with the slight mix of traditions, but he knew that everything had been planned down to the smallest detail.

Severus squeezed his shoulder reassuringly before stepping forward to meet Lucius in the middle of the wide doorway. They disappeared into the Great Hall and Harry was left alone, facing Draco on the other side of the opening. He swallowed heavily. This was finally happening.

Then, Draco smiled. Harry stepped forward to meet him, grasping Draco’s hand in his own. Draco kissed him on the cheek. “Relax, love,” he said softly.

Harry quirked a lopsided grin, his briefly shaken confidence restored. They stepped into the Great Hall, looking over the many people who were there to witness their bonding.

Draco had actually been the one to suggest they bond on the thirty-first of August, allowing all of the students to attend. The Hogwarts Express had run a day early, bringing all the students back. Harry had protested such a huge event, but Draco had pointed out that all of the students were very much a part of their lives, after all of the events the previous year. The result was that they ended up with an event that was eerily similar to the celebration after Voldemort’s defeat, in terms of the people in attendance.

The Great Hall itself couldn’t have looked less similar, though. Gone were all of the house tables, or any recognition of the separate houses. The Great Hall was transformed into a forest scene. Draco had refused to risk having the weather ruin their bonding if they had it outdoors, and instead had conspired to redecorate the Great Hall as a means of compromise.

The rows of seating were draped with dark green velvet with lilies adorning the edges along the centre aisle. The floor was carpeted in a lush, green expanse. The perimeter of the room was filled with trees, shrubs and splashes of flowers.

Harry and Draco strolled slowly up the stone pathway littered with flower petals that created the centre aisle. Harry glanced at Draco and grinned. With his chin raised haughtily, he appeared to be quite in his element with all of the attention. Draco glanced back at Harry, and winked.

They sobered as they halted at the top of the steps in the front of the room. Severus stood to Harry’s right and Lucius to Draco’s left, with Dumbledore before them.

Harry could barely concentrate as Dumbledore welcomed them and all of the guests. The first part of the ceremony was rather a blur as he contemplated the surrealness of the situation, but his father handing him a jewel-encrusted dagger brought him back to reality in a hurry.

Releasing his breath slowly, he turned towards Draco, seeing his slight fear reflected in Draco’s eyes. This was the part of the ceremony that he had been dreading, but he knew what he had to do. Draco lifted his hands, palm up, offering them to Harry with a show of trust.

Harry gripped the dagger tightly and quickly cut across both of Draco’s palms, blood welling up immediately. He felt horrible seeing the wince that Draco wasn’t able to completely mask.

“I choose you as my partner in life, and there will be times that I will hurt you,” Harry said regretfully.

He passed the dagger to Lucius and hovered his own hands over Draco’s, willing his magic to heal Draco’s cuts. He breathed a small sigh of relief as he felt the magic flow, and a golden glow appeared between their hands.

“I commit myself to healing any hurts that I inflict upon you,” Harry declared quietly. “I will strive not to hurt you in the first place and instead bestow upon you all the love that I hold for you in my heart.”

He was grateful when he saw Draco’s hands perfectly healed and clean of blood as he accepted the dagger from his father to repeat the process in reverse.

Harry offered his palms for Draco, and gave a slight nod in reassurance when Draco hesitated. Draco closed his eyes briefly before swiftly dragging the dagger across Harry’s hands. He repeated the words that Harry had said to him, regret and reassurance shining from his grey eyes.

“Your vows,” Dumbledore murmured quietly.

“Harry, since I first met you six years ago, you have always been a major part of my life,” Draco said softly. “But it wasn’t until a year ago that I finally got to know you. I call you Angel, because that is how I see you. You are a beautiful person, inside and out, who fiercely protects and guards all those you hold dear to your heart. I came to admire your strength and courage that I once despised. You earned my deepest respect by your selfless actions.”

He took a deep breath before continuing. “You give me everything. A sense of hope for a brighter future, a place to belong and be accepted for who I am. I fell in love with you, never expecting it to happen, and truly shocked when I realized exactly who I had fallen in love with. But I was completely lost when I didn’t have your warmth to comfort me through the night, your smile to brighten my day, your sense of humour to make me laugh, your strength to ground me. Never again do I want to feel so lost and alone. I bind myself to you today, wishing to give you everything that you give to me.”

Harry’s focus was solely on Draco, but it took him a few seconds before he could speak. Swallowing heavily, he thought about what it meant that Draco was saying such things in front of hundreds of witnesses. Draco had no shame when it came to a show – often quite literally a show – of physical affection, but he did not often voice such sentiments. Taking in a steadying breath, Harry began his own vows.

“Draco, I’m sure it surprises many that I am bonding with you today,” he said quietly. “But that is because they do not know you as I do. I disguised my identity last year for many reasons but, by far, the greatest benefit was the opportunity to get to know you. I wouldn’t know what to do if you were not a part of my life. Just being with you gives me a sense of balance and peace.”

He smiled softly. “You may call me Angel, but you recognize that I am only human. I respect your blunt honesty. I greatly admire the determination with which you face life. People hold me in awe for my accomplishments of this past year, when I would have accomplished nothing if it had not been for you. You complete me in a way that I never would have expected, but am unable to live without, now that I have experienced it. I bind myself to you today, wishing to give you everything that you give to me.”

“Join hands,” Dumbledore requested.

Harry linked his right hand with Draco’s right and his left with Draco’s left, so that their hands crossed in the middle. His hands were shaking lightly and Draco squeezed them gently as they gave their attention to Dumbledore.

“A magical bonding means far more than a simple commitment between two people,” Dumbledore said. “It is a joining of heart, mind, soul, and magic. It is a statement of complete trust and life-long commitment to each other.”

As he spoke, he was twining a silky cord around their joined hands. It was an iridescent rainbow, fine threads woven together to represent every colour under the sun.

“Magic will bind you and strengthen the pledge you have already made to each other.”

Harry had trouble focusing on Dumbledore’s voice as he felt the magic twisting around his and Draco’s hands. He closed his eyes as it threatened to overwhelm him. Draco’s magic was warm, sparking across his skin. From their joined hands, it travelled up his arms and spread over every inch of his body, encompassing him entirely.

He’d been unprepared for the intensity of this moment. No one had thought to warn him that there wasn’t anything as intimate as being surrounded by someone else’s magic. For a few seconds, there was an elusive feeling of being tested. Then acceptance. He revelled in the sheer sensual pleasure of Draco’s magic accepting him.

Never had he felt so connected to Draco.

The magic slowly dissipated to manageable levels. He pried his eyes open, focusing on the expression of pure bliss on Draco’s features. Oh Merlin, he was beautiful.

Without thought, Harry leaned forward to press a kiss to Draco’s lips but was stopped by a heavy hand on his shoulder. Startled, he glanced over his shoulder at his father. Severus shook his head.

No kissing until the end. Right. Sealed with a kiss was more than a phrase in the magical world.

He looked back to Draco. The urge to kiss him was stronger than ever. The magic still crackling over his skin practically demanded it. Draco’s lashes fluttered for a couple of seconds before he was able to force his eyes open.

Harry smiled as Lucius laid a restraining hand on Draco’s shoulder and squeezed his hands in understanding. Good to know Draco had trouble resisting the urge as well.

He was startled anew when Dumbledore rested his hands briefly on theirs to get their attention before he began unwinding the silken cord. His eyes were twinkling brighter than Harry had ever seen as he stepped back and indicated they should let go of each other’s hands and face him.

“The rings,” Dumbledore requested.

Managing to tear his eyes away from Draco, Harry watched their fathers produce the rings from their pockets and pass them to Dumbledore. Holding the simple platinum bands in the palm of his hand, Dumbledore coiled the cord over the top of them before enchanting spells that caused the cord to merge with the rings. When the spells were complete, the flat silver of the rings shined with a new radiance, sparkling with flashes of colour in the light.

“These rings are more than a symbol of your union,” Dumbledore said. “They are vessels of your combined magic, strengthening your bond.”

Harry tried to concentrate, but not much was penetrating the continuing swirl of magic. A sidelong glance at Draco showed he was paying rapt attention and Harry tried harder to focus, not wanting to miss something important. He was relieved when Dumbledore kept his speech short and handed Draco one of the rings.

With his eyes shining with more brilliance than the ring, Draco gently slid it onto Harry’s finger. “This ring is a reminder that I will always be with you.”

Harry meant to speak, but his eyes fluttered as the magic finally settled around him. He was left feeling energized rather than disoriented. Blinking furiously, he focused on Draco again.

“I will wear it with pride,” he said finally, his voice coming out far more husky than he’d intended.

Draco smiled and held his own hand out. Harry took the ring from Dumbledore and slipped it on Draco’s finger and spoke the required words. He watched Draco go through the same disorientation before his expression settled into one of serene satisfaction.

“I will wear it with pride,” he said softly.

In unison, they turned questioning glances towards Dumbledore. Smiling broadly, Dumbledore nodded. “You may kiss to seal your union.”

Harry had heard people refer to a kiss being magical, but he’d never considered it to be a literal statement. As his lips met Draco’s and he felt the lingering tingle of magic sparking between them, he revised his judgement. Draco deepened the kiss and Harry felt it settle into his very being, leaving him on a magical high unrivalled by anything else he had ever known.

The irritating hand landed on his shoulder again and Harry reluctantly parted from Draco. He was relieved and pleased to see Draco appearing as dazed as he felt.

“Harry James Potter and Draco Lucius Malfoy,” Dumbledore said, “it is my honour to announce your successful bonding.”

With that pronouncement, there was a loud cheering in the Great Hall. Harry exchanged glances with Draco before turning to face their audience. He’d all but forgotten them during the ceremony. Mrs. Weasley and, in fact, many of the girls were crying. Unsurprisingly, so was Hagrid. Their friends were beaming at them. Several people were shaking their heads in resigned amusement, including Moody and Shacklebolt. Most of the students were still cheering loudly.

“Shall we make our grand exit, Angel Malfoy?” Draco drawled quietly.

Harry quirked a questioning eyebrow, but he was smiling. “Angel Malfoy?”

Draco simply smirked at him before tightening his grip on Harry’s hand as they swept out of the Great Hall.

Unfortunately, they weren’t allowed to sneak away as their fathers and the others exited behind them. Rounds of congratulations followed them up the stairs as they were ushered to the Room of Requirement.

Blaise’s uncanny ability to manipulate the room was reflected in the elaborately decorated ballroom the size of the Great Hall. Harry barely took notice of the scenery beyond the relief he felt that it was tastefully done. Not an angel or devil in sight.

Hermione had introduced the Muggle custom of a receiving line and Harry spent a great deal of time simply greeting guests. It was no surprise that Draco had latched onto the custom, wearing his regal robes and appearing to be holding court. Lucius was undoubtedly attempting to make subtle connections with some of the more influential guests. Harry caught his father’s eye and grinned at the pained expression that briefly crossed his features. 

“Never again,” Severus hissed, before he turned back to shake hands with yet another member of Wizarding society.

Severus didn’t need to worry, because Harry would never be going through this experience with anyone else. He glanced at . . . his husband? His bonded? He blinked at the realization that they were actually _bonded_. They belonged only to each other. It was a singularly heart-swelling, throat-closing moment.

“Angel?” Draco questioned in concern.

Harry’s mouth opened and closed soundlessly. “We’re married!” he finally blurted out.

Draco’s features relaxed and he smiled. “I know,” he said simply, pecking Harry on the cheek.

“I believe it is time for some refreshment,” Lucius interjected, expertly clearing the remaining throng of guests and leading them to the table at the front of the room.

Harry dropped down into the chair Draco pulled out for him and gulped down the glass of wine Severus placed in his hand.

“Slow down,” Draco admonished.

“Draco, we’re _married_ ,” Harry said, staring at his ring.

“You’re not allowed to change your mind now,” Draco said, thankfully sounding amused rather than hurt.

Harry still felt bad. “Oh hell,” he muttered. “I’m sorry. It’s just a shock to realize that it’s really happened.”

“Indeed,” Severus said, knocking back his own glass of wine. “Harry Potter is now bonded with a pretentious Malfoy. The world will never be the same.”

“Your bitterness is showing, Severus,” Lucius drawled. “It will not kill you to mingle with polite society for a few hours.”

“There are Weasleys present,” Severus stated.

Lucius hesitated before nodding in acknowledgement and reaching for his own glass of wine.

Draco took advantage of Harry’s distraction and kissed him, shocking Harry with the tenderness. It was sweet and filled with promises.

“I’m happy we’re married,” Draco whispered against his lips. “But married or not, nothing would change the fact that I love you.”

“Love you, too,” Harry returned, feeling like he was coasting on a magical high again. He smirked suddenly. “You are aware that you’re being sappy in front of everyone, aren’t you?”

Draco grimaced as he retreated to his chair. “I think I’ve already ruined my reputation when I said my vows.” He glared at Harry. “And don’t think I’m going to let you forget the sacrifices I make for you.”

“I won’t forget,” Harry said seriously. “They mean everything to me.”

“Me, too,” Draco admitted softly.

~*~*~*~

Harry sat back, feeling relaxed and satisfied. Perhaps not completely satisfied, he thought, absently smoothing his hand over the soft velvet covering Draco’s thigh.

“You’re going to get more than you bargained for if you keep that up,” Draco whispered in his ear.

Under the protection of the table, Harry slid his hand further up, revelling in the barely audible hitch to Draco’s breathing. “You’re already hard,” he said, mildly surprised.

“You haven’t stopped touching me all day,” Draco drawled. “And your hand has been all over my leg for the last twenty minutes. What did you expect?”

Harry smiled impishly. “I expected to have sex with you a long time ago,” he said, rubbing the palm of his hand against the bulge felt through robes.

“Now would be good,” Draco said, the words hissing through his teeth. “I’m not going to last through much more of your teasing.”

If he was honest, Harry wasn’t going to last through much more of his teasing, either. “Can we leave?” he asked hopefully.

“I don’t even want to leave,” Draco said, shaking his head. 

That halted Harry’s movements. “Why? It’s our wedding night and we’re _expected_ to leave, aren’t we?”

“Eventually, yes,” Draco said. “But we’re not done here yet.”

He dropped a light kiss on Harry’s pouting mouth. “We have the rest of our lives together. It’s expected that we spend this evening celebrating our future with everyone. I want to be a part of the celebration and I don’t want you to miss out on it.”

“But I want you,” Harry whinged, well aware that he was being petulant but not caring. “Couldn’t we just slip out for a little while?”

“People would notice and they’d definitely stop us,” Draco said, sounding regretful.

“I don’t think anyone can see under the table,” Blaise said conversationally.

Pansy nodded in agreement. “Tablecloths reach the floor and it’s a large table to seat all of us.”

With Blaise seated to Harry’s right and Pansy on Draco’s left, Harry realized they’d heard every word of the conversation. Glancing around the table, though, he recognized that everyone else had been oblivious. Most of the room was involved in quiet conversation as they finished their dinner and the wedding cake that had been served not long before.

Harry smirked wickedly. “Cover for me?” he asked Blaise.

“Of course,” Blaise said, indignant that Harry had to ask.

Turning back to Draco, Harry kissed him hard and quick. “Do try to be quiet, love,” he said, sliding under the table before Draco had a chance to respond.

It was rather odd how the sounds of the room seemed to be amplified under the table. Where he hadn’t been paying attention to his surroundings before, now he was hearing everyone’s conversations. But luckily no one else at his own table appeared to have noticed that he’d disappeared. He ignored the sight of Ron and Hermione playing footsie.

Hiking up his irritating white robes, he watched Draco scoot his chair closer to the table and spread his legs. Pansy scooted closer to Seamus in consideration and Harry mentally thanked her.

He smoothed his hands over Draco’s thighs and down to his ankles, catching the hem of his robes before retracing his path, pulling the robes up. It was startling, and very pleasant, to discover that Draco had dressed traditionally. No trousers under his robes. It shouldn’t have surprised him, but it was unexpected because Draco had specifically picked out what Harry was to wear under his own robes. He wasn’t going to be stupid enough to question it now.

Draco lifted his hips, helping him to make quick work of the silk boxers he was wearing underneath – which Harry stuffed in his pocket. He simply stared for a moment, hands resting on Draco’s legs and his thumbs absently rubbing small circles on Draco’s inner thighs, causing them to quiver in anticipation. He wanted nothing more than to fuck Draco, but it wasn’t possible right then. Worshipping Draco’s cock wasn’t out of the question, though.

Flicking his tongue out, he licked the pre-cum leaking from Draco’s slit, savouring the slightly bitter tang. He loved how Draco tasted and smiled at the thought of all the discussions they’d had regarding Draco’s many different flavours.

Draco shifted impatiently, silently begging Harry to get on with it. Considering Draco had been waiting all day, and Harry couldn’t afford to spend a great deal of time under the bloody table, he didn’t wait any longer before sucking Draco’s cock into his mouth.

His cock was hot and heavy, throbbing against Harry’s tongue. The pulse echoed in Harry’s trousers and he sucked slowly, not wanting Draco to come yet, as he fumbled with robes and belt and zip before he could finally free his own cock to the open air. There was an instant of relief before the ache returned.

Bloody fuck! He desperately wanted to be able to ravish Draco in peace. He wanted to shove his cock in Draco’s tight little arse and make him scream. Instead, he paused his ministrations and sucked on two of his fingers, slicking them with spit, before pushing his index finger inside Draco at the same time as he took his cock back in his mouth. The action caused Draco’s hips to arch off the chair.

Harry grinned around Draco’s cock in satisfaction, eyeing the white-knuckled grip Draco had on the side of the chair. He’d not heard a sound from him up above, though. How Draco could remain silent, he had no idea. He pushed another finger past that tight ring of muscle and pumped them slowly, making Draco squirm and push back against them with small movements.

“Where’s Harry?”

He sucked harder at the sound of Ron’s voice, recognizing that he probably didn’t have much time. Draco groaned in response to Harry’s actions and inadvertently answered Ron’s question.

“Bloody hell!” Ron exclaimed in exasperation. “Not again!”

At the sound of laughter circling the table, Draco obviously decided against the need for discretion. He shoved Harry back before sliding under the table with him. Within seconds, Harry was flat on his back with Draco straddling his hips and being kissed soundly. He only vaguely recognized that Draco’s hands were busy elsewhere as he attempted to shove his tongue down Harry’s throat.

It wasn’t until he felt the cool slickness suddenly being stroked onto his cock that he tore his mouth away from Draco’s to see what was going on as he gasped for breath. Where the hell had Draco got lube? It didn’t matter, because Draco was positioning himself over Harry’s cock and slowly sinking down on it, enveloping Harry in tight heat.

“Oh, fuck,” Harry moaned.

“At least keep it quiet down there, would you?” Ron pleaded.

Draco’s smirk was just as wicked as Harry’s had been earlier. He clenched his arse around Harry’s cock, eliciting a deep-seated groan from Harry, oddly echoed by Ron, which generated more laughter.

Ignoring them, Harry yanked the front of Draco’s robes to pull him down for another kiss as he arched his hips up. It was fast and hard after that, although they did attempt to keep the noise level down by muffling their moans into each other’s mouths.

Harry growled in frustration as he attempted to get past what felt like metres and metres of velvet fabric bunched around their waists, but eventually managed to get his hand on Draco’s cock. Draco latched onto Harry’s mouth with greater urgency as Harry pulled his orgasm from him. Harry didn’t last much longer, coming forcefully as they continued to kiss.

It was long minutes later before they were cleaned up and presentable again, but they stayed under the table languidly snogging.

Blaise flipped up the edge of the tablecloth and grinned at them. “Do you two eventually plan to join the rest of us again?”

“If you insist,” Draco said sarcastically.

They emerged from under the table and took their seats, behaving as if nothing untoward had happened. Harry rolled his eyes at his friends, who were staring at him and Draco in undisguised amazement.

“So, did anyone notice we were missing?” he asked Blaise.

“Your fathers, Lupin, Tonks, and several of the students,” Blaise listed. “Oh, and I think Moody got his thrill of the year,” he added casually.

Harry exchanged glances with Draco before searching for Moody in the crowd. Moody’s magical eye was not something he’d taken into consideration. When he finally spotted the man, Moody gave him a sardonic wave. Harry grinned sheepishly, grateful that he wasn’t taking offence.

“I can’t believe you two,” Hermione said, shaking her head. “Absolutely no shame.”

“I thought we had established that last December,” Draco drawled, pouring himself and Harry fresh glasses of wine.

“It was before that,” Pansy said dryly. “You two made yourselves at home in the Slytherin common room last autumn.”

Harry shrugged as he sipped at the wine. “I have nothing to be ashamed of.”

“But it’s . . . it’s indecent,” Hermione said. “It should be private.”

“Someday, Granger, you’ll learn that sex and intimacy are not synonyms,” Draco said, rolling his eyes. “Standing in front of hundreds of people and baring my soul and magic to Harry was an intimacy I’d rather not have shared. Sex under the table where a few friends could hear us was simply that – sex.”

Hermione bit her lip, thinking about what he’d said. “But didn’t you want it to be special for your wedding night?” she asked. “Sex under a table is far from romantic.”

“But unforgettable,” Draco said, smirking.

She looked like she desperately wanted to argue that point, but was uncertain how to go about it.

Harry smiled softly, knowing Hermione couldn’t see Draco gently lacing their fingers together under the table.

“Hermione, we may be bonded and we’re capable of behaving responsibly,” he said. “But we’re also seventeen-year-old males who happen to enjoy sex. A lot.” He ignored the sniggering from their other friends. “Would it make you feel better to know that I have no doubt Draco will make love with me later tonight in the privacy of our room?”

She blushed furiously.

“Oh, how sweet,” Pansy cooed.

She didn’t move fast enough and Draco smacked her on the back of the head. “How many times have I told you that I’m not sweet?” he demanded.

He scowled as Pansy simply laughed at him. “After that ceremony earlier, Draco dearest, you don’t have a hope of convincing anyone otherwise.”

Harry leaned back in his chair as he listened fondly to the banter. The noise level began to pick up throughout the rest of the room, too. He didn’t know what they were supposed to be doing next, but he was damned if he was going to stay in the suffocating robes any longer.

“What are you doing?” Blaise demanded.

“I’m hot, so I’m taking off these bloody robes,” Harry muttered, trying to focus on the row of little buttons he’d had no problem with earlier in the day. Perhaps he’d had one glass of wine too many.

“You can’t!” Blaise protested.

“Er, why not?” Harry asked. “I’m wearing trousers underneath.” He grimaced. “Although, they’re ridiculously white as well. White linen,” he muttered, wrinkling his nose. “Wasn’t allowed to wear my black leather.”

“You haven’t danced with Draco yet.”

Harry stared blankly for a moment before shaking his head dismissively. “I can dance with Draco without these bloody robes tripping me.”

“Draco, tell him he can’t take them off,” Blaise pleaded as Harry went back to trying to undo the buttons.

Draco gazed at Harry with interest, his arm stretched across the back of Harry’s chair. The pink flush across his cheekbones indicated he’d probably had too much wine as well. Relaxed, he didn’t say a word in agreement or disagreement. His eyes simply followed the movement of Harry’s hands.

Pansy spoke up instead. “Dustin,” she chided. “Blaise is right, you know. Pictures will be taken and there are traditions to uphold.”

Harry paused. “Traditions?” he questioned Draco.

Draco shrugged, which indicated a yes.

“Bloody hell,” Harry muttered. In other words, when Draco was completely sober again, he’d regret it if they didn’t follow the proper traditions and Harry would likely never hear the end of it.

“I hope you know I love you,” he pouted, giving up on the buttons and turning so he could sit with his back resting against Draco’s chest.

“I know,” Draco murmured in his ear, arms encircling him and starting to undo the buttons himself.

“Draco!” Pansy cried. “What are you doing?”

“He wants them off,” Draco said calmly. “Who am I to deny my husband on his wedding day?”

“You just want him naked,” Seamus said, amused by the disagreement.

“That, too,” Draco agreed, his breath ghosting across Harry’s neck and sending a shiver down his spine.

“You can’t strip him!” Ron exclaimed. “There’s adults here!”

“And young children!” Hermione added.

“Notice that they’re not worried about you stripping me in front of them and all our other friends,” Harry said, smirking as they blushed furiously and Ron started spluttering.

“Much as I’d enjoy it, I don’t plan to strip him of all his clothing,” Draco drawled, fingers still deftly working through the row of tiny buttons.

Harry tilted his head back onto Draco’s shoulder. “But you’re all right if I don’t wear the robes any longer?”

“Tradition would dictate that you wear them until the end of the reception,” Draco said, “but I do recognize that I’m lucky you agreed to even wear them for the ceremony. To be honest, I’m surprised you’ve lasted this long.”

“Which would be why you insisted Harry wear white under his robes,” Neville said in sudden understanding as Draco slipped the robes off Harry’s shoulders.

Draco’s smirk answered the question.

“Is white an angel thing or a wedding thing?” Ron asked curiously.

Harry laughed at the mix of answers as his friends responded automatically. “Draco likes to pretend I’m the sweet and innocent one by calling me Angel and dressing me in white. Makes him feel more powerful.”

Draco quirked an eyebrow at Harry, but didn’t deny it.

“Bloody weird,” Ron said succinctly.

“Ron!”

“What?” Ron protested, for once managing to avoid Hermione’s elbow. “They _are_ weird, and at least I haven’t said anything about Harry’s name, have I?”

Hermione ran a hand down her face in exasperation.

“You have an issue with his name?” Draco questioned.

“Er,” Ron waffled for a moment. “Yes, actually, I do. Why is Harry a _Malfoy_ now? Why couldn’t you be a Potter? Or why couldn’t you do one of those hyphen things or something?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “It was my choice, Ron. I’ve got enough bloody names but I refuse to make it complicated and do the hyphenated thing. And it’s not like people are going to forget that I’m Harry Potter. I’d only be so lucky if they did.”

“Becoming a Malfoy isn’t going to make you any less famous,” Neville pointed out.

“Or infamous,” Pansy added dryly.

“True,” Harry conceded, smirking at his friends.

“I hate when you do that,” Ron muttered.

“At least you won’t forget that he’s also a Snape,” Blaise said cheerfully.

“How could I possibly forget?” Ron asked. “The great bat is always hovering somewhere close, watching over Harry.” He glanced around furtively. “Where is he, anyway?”

Harry and the others attempted to stifle their laughter as Severus lifted a sardonic brow.

Ron groaned. “He’s standing behind me, isn’t he?”

Harry nodded, watching as Ron swallowed heavily before turning around slowly. “Sorry, sir.”

“Do be aware, Mr. Weasley, that I fully expect the weasels to watch over him when he is in Gryffindor territory,” Severus said smoothly.

Harry couldn’t hold on to his laughter as Ron, and Hermione, gaped incredulously.

“Did he just call me a weasel?” Ron whispered. Loudly.

“You _did_ call him a bat,” Harry said.

“But he’s a _professor_ ,” Hermione whispered, not much quieter than Ron.

“I do believe professors are allowed to speak their minds freely,” Severus said.

“Particularly when they are enjoying the wine being served this evening,” Lucius drawled as he joined them.

“I am not drunk,” Severus declared indignantly. “That would be supremely unprofessional.” The flash of pride he displayed upon getting that sentence out successfully rather belied his state of sobriety.

Harry was the only one who dared to snigger aloud, risking his father’s wrath. He’d seen his father drink on many occasions, but this was the first time he’d ever witnessed him even remotely close to being drunk.

“Mr. Malfoy,” Lucius drawled, “you have no call to laugh, considering your blatant disregard for propriety.” He flicked a glance towards Harry’s robes hanging over the back of a chair.

Harry blinked, realizing after a second that Lucius was speaking to him. _Mr. Malfoy?_ “That’s going to take some getting used to,” he murmured. He hadn’t got used to being called Mr. Snape, even after a year.

Lucius cast him a smirk of amusement before turning a serious gaze on Draco. “Have you not informed him, yet?”

Draco, and every other person at the table, stiffened. “No, Father,” he answered, casting a noticeably wary glance at Severus.


	2. Chapter 2

Harry would be hard-pressed to describe the change to someone else, but he could see the subtle shift in his father’s features. Ron might not have recognized Severus’ earlier softness, but Harry had. Where Severus had appeared slightly tipsy a moment before, he was now perfectly sober and stabbing Lucius with piercing, narrowed eyes. 

“Now, Severus,” Lucius said. “Surely you did not intimidate even Draco to silence?”

Harry darted a glance at Draco, but quickly reverted his focus to their fathers.

“This is not up for discussion,” Severus ground out, angrier than Harry had seen him in a long time.

Lucius’ contemplative gaze landed on Harry, weighing and measuring him. For what, Harry had no idea, but he intended to find out. Whatever was going on, he recognized that Lucius, and apparently everyone else, had placated Severus until this moment and now Severus was being forced to face the issue when he had nowhere to run.

“No,” Severus said sharply. “I will never force him to do such a thing.”

“It is his choice.”

“No,” Severus repeated. “I am his father and I refuse, which therefore leaves him with no decision to make.”

“Draco has chosen,” Lucius said.

Severus’ head whipped around to face Draco. 

Draco sat up a little straighter as he gave Severus a curt nod.

“Draco, it is not necessary.”

“I am proud to be bonded into the Snape family,” Draco said, the pride he spoke of reflected clearly in his voice.

Severus’ eyes closed. “Lucius, you can not ask me to . . .”

“To honour the traditions of our world?”

“To mark your son!” Severus shouted, snapping his eyes open to glare at Lucius furiously. “And I will not allow you to mark Harry!”

Harry could only blink as an uncomfortable silence descended over the room.

“Perhaps we should take this discussion somewhere more private,” Lucius suggested.

Severus could’ve easily killed Lucius with his glare and Harry privately thought Lucius should be thankful no one had ever been able to replicate the basilisk’s magic. With an imperious gesture indicating they should follow, Severus swept from the room.

“Lucius?”

“Yes, Harry?”

“I think you’re sleeping on the proverbial couch tonight.”

“Indeed.”

Draco’s sidelong glance was incredulous, but he kept his mouth shut. Harry thought that was a rather smart decision on his part, as he was the only one not to be caught by the venomous glare cast over Severus’ shoulder.

Severus stalked a short ways down the empty corridor before suddenly spinning on his heel to face them. Harry felt it best not to mention that it didn’t have nearly the same effect when he was wearing red dress robes rather than his billowing black robes.

While he did want to know what this was all about, he chose to lean against the stone wall next to Draco and let their fathers fight it out first. As they faced off, Harry debated as to whether or not wands would actually be drawn and found himself feeling a little disappointed when Dumbledore and Mrs. Weasley joined them.

Mrs. Weasley was the next poor soul to be killed by Severus’ glare, although Harry wasn’t certain why she’d earned his wrath.

“Surely _you_ do not condone this?” he spat.

She cast a distrustful glance at Lucius before gazing warmly at Harry and Draco. She nodded decisively. “I respect the traditions.”

Lucius arched a brow in surprise.

“Those traditions have been destroyed,” Severus sneered.

“No, Severus,” Dumbledore spoke. “They are only destroyed if we allow it.”

Harry suspected that if Severus’ glares could actually kill, Dumbledore would’ve been dead many times over already. Severus attempted it again anyway.

“I swore that my son would never be marked. I will not allow him to submit to Lucius.”

For the first time, Harry was beginning to feel a little of his father’s alarm. _Submit to Lucius?_ He desperately needed a full explanation of what the hell everyone was talking about. Severus continued to argue with the others, but very little of it was making sense to Harry.

“Someone needs to explain this,” he demanded. “Now.”

All eyes turned to Severus and Harry followed them. “Father?”

“Show him,” Severus ordered.

Harry watched in utter astonishment as Mrs. Weasley smiled before turning her back and kneeling in front of him. Sweeping her hair to the side, she revealed what he knew to be the Weasley family crest on the nape of her neck.

He automatically stretched his hand out to touch before jerking it back.

“I’m sure Molly doesn’t mind if you examine her mark more closely,” Dumbledore said.

“Go ahead, Harry,” she reassured.

Feeling decidedly uncomfortable, he still couldn’t resist the urge to touch the mark. It was smooth, colourful and in no way resembled the Dark Mark. The design was far different, but it was otherwise similar to the tattooed snakes on his lower back. It certainly didn’t feel dark and sinister.

“I still don’t understand,” he said quietly. While he didn’t precisely understand the custom, he was beginning to comprehend his father’s concerns.

He helped Mrs. Weasley to her feet as Dumbledore casually conjured chairs and soon they were all seated in the middle of the corridor. Only Severus remained standing, continuing to cast his poisonous glares.

Harry ignored his father and paid rapt attention as Dumbledore described the old Wizarding tradition. 

While originally the mark had served as a sign of ownership, over time it had become a symbol of pride and honour. When a woman married, she was marked by blood magic by the head of the family she was marrying into. It was a sign of acceptance and equality, rather than servitude.

The tradition had withstood the test of time until Voldemort had twisted and corrupted it. He had searched back to the roots of the tradition and twisted it until it not only became a sign of ownership and servitude, it connected him to his followers. Many of his early recruits had associated the Dark Mark with its current meanings and accepted it with pride, not realizing until too late that they were bound as servants to do their master’s bidding.

It was quiet for a minute after Dumbledore finished speaking while Harry sorted through the information. He understood the Voldemort portion of the explanation well enough, but he was still confused on other points.

“Why would Draco and I . . . well, neither of us are women,” he said. His face twisted into a grimace. “I’m taking Draco’s family name, so does that make me the woman?”

“Definitely not,” Draco said, rolling his eyes at the ridiculousness of that idea.

“Men are the head of the family,” Mrs. Weasley explained, “and the family name continues through the male heirs. That is simply the way of things. As such, the males are generally considered to be the dominant of the relationship and it is the females who are marked, designating them as equals in the family.”

“But Draco and I are both male. Aren’t we already considered equal?” Harry couldn’t help thinking that he didn’t really want to hear Hermione’s opinions on all this.

“Even in same-sex couples, it is still an expression of equality and acceptance,” Mrs. Weasley said.

“I am proud to be bonded into the Snape family,” Draco said, repeating his earlier statement.

“Does it make me any less proud to be bonded into the Malfoy family if I don’t want the mark?” Harry asked.

“No, of course not,” Draco said. “But I want to uphold the traditions.”

“Harry, you can not honestly be considering this,” Severus said harshly. “It is not necessary to subject yourself to this ritual.”

“It’s not the ritual that’s the problem, though, is it?” Harry said, glancing at Lucius. “It’s all the political ramifications.”

Lucius nodded in acknowledgement.

He looked back to his father. “A lot of people would condemn you and Lucius as being no better than Voldemort and see me and Draco as Death Eaters. Especially Muggle-borns who’ve never really understood the traditions and never saw a time when the mark meant something different.”

“The tradition has been condemned beyond repair,” Severus sneered.

“Albus doesn’t think so,” Harry said. “Whoever else I am, I’m Harry Potter, the Wizarding world’s poster child. If I were to take the mark, I’d be making a huge step in rebuilding the Wizarding world. Many would condemn me, at least at first, but people like Mrs. Weasley and Lucius –” He blinked at the oddity of lumping those two together on anything. “– would be happy to see the traditions revived.”

“What about you, Harry?” Severus snapped. “You wish to be marked? You trust Lucius enough not to modify that mark? You wish to be branded like property?”

The thought of being marked did rather turn his stomach, and it was no wonder his father was upset, but he did trust Lucius. When he wasn’t allowing twenty years of servitude to cloud his judgement, so did Severus.

“Draco wants you to mark him,” Harry said. “Do you consider that as claiming him as your property, or gaining another son?”

“He is already my son,” Severus said. “Marking him would only be a formality.”

Harry caught Draco’s smile out of the corner of his eye, but stayed focused on his father. 

“A formality that is respected in the Wizarding community,” he said quietly.

“It is _feared_ in society,” Severus corrected.

“Then maybe we should do something to change that,” Harry said. “I didn’t let Voldemort rule my actions when he was alive; I’m certainly not going to let him dictate my choices from the grave.”

Severus’ eyes flashed dangerously, not appreciating the implications. But whether Severus wanted to admit it directly or not, Harry recognized that Severus was scared for him. Everyone remained silent while Severus struggled with his inner demons.

Finally, “You’ve made your decision?”

“I am proud to be bonded into the Malfoy family,” Harry said firmly, using Draco’s words in case they were one of those expected proper responses of which he was unaware.

Severus bowed his head in defeat. “Then I will not stop you.”

~*~*~*~

Harry walked to the centre of the room, finding himself wondering exactly how many Muggle phrases originated from Wizarding customs. Marrying into the family held a distinctly new meaning for him, considering it had its own ritual.

The tension was palpable in the air, the atmosphere extremely sombre. He knew a lot of people were nervous for him. Hermione, in particular, had given him a look of such shocked incredulity that he wasn’t certain if she had recovered yet. But it was only his father’s heavy disappointment that made him hesitate.

No matter the connotations to Voldemort, Harry felt this was the right thing to do. For himself, as well as so many others. He’d never let his father make his decisions for him in the past and he wasn’t going to start now.

He stood in front of Lucius, meeting his gaze directly. Submit to Lucius, indeed, he thought dryly. He understood Severus’ concern, but it was no different than “submitting” to Voldemort the year before. Only this time, he wouldn’t be asked to torture anyone – and he was back in his white robes rather than his black Death Eater robes.

Pain would be involved, though. But Harry had learned how to handle pain, at Lucius’ hand, the year before as well. The only thing he was truly unhappy about was that he had to do this in front of everyone. Not that he was humiliated, or even disturbed, but because so many others would be distressed by it. Though Merlin forbid if he went against pureblood tradition, he thought, mentally rolling his eyes.

Perhaps the motion hadn’t been entirely mental as a flash of amusement sparked in Lucius’ eyes. Severus respected Harry, but with the eyes of a parent. Lucius respected Harry as an equal. Ironic, considering they were essentially going to make Harry a son by blood.

“Dustin Snape, will you bind yourself to the Malfoy family?” Lucius intoned.

“I will,” Harry said, his voice strong and firm.

“Kneel.”

Harry dropped gracefully to his knees, bowing his head in a show of submission. His eyes, however, flicked to the small table beside them. Resting on the surface was a silver, richly-jewelled chalice, faint tendrils of smoke rising from the contents. Next to it was the matching jewel-encrusted dagger from the earlier bonding ceremony. 

Lucius had come prepared for this, even if Severus had not. He reached for the dagger and cut cleanly across his left palm, allowing the blood to pool for a moment as he set the dagger back on the table before tipping his hand and letting the blood flow into the chalice. The potion inside hissed, the smoke turning a faint blue after a few seconds.

“Blood of the father,” Lucius murmured – causing a chill to travel down Harry’s spine – before incanting a spell over the chalice, touching his wand lightly on the edge. It tinged the smoke a brighter shade of blue.

Swiftly muttered spells healed and cleaned his hand before he requested Harry’s offering. Head still cast downward, Harry held up his left hand. Lucius supported Harry’s hand with his own as he sliced the dagger across the palm.

Harry held it steady, ignoring the sting. He watched from the corner of his eyes as Lucius guided his hand over the chalice and turned it so the blood would drip into the potion. The hiss this time was louder as the smoke turned from blue to red. 

Lucius released his hand and Harry held it carefully. Stupid to be thinking of it at such a crucial moment, but Draco would kill him if he got bloodstains on the white robes.

“Blood of the son,” Lucius said before again incanting his spells.

It probably shouldn’t have been a surprise when the tendrils of smoke turned a deep purple, although with magic the red and blue could have combined into any colour. Harry reckoned it was better than trying to drink something that was a sickly green, which he’d been forced to do in the past.

“Drink,” Lucius ordered, carefully handing him the chalice.

He smiled faintly when he caught sight of the contents. The smoke may have been purple, but the liquid itself was akin to molten silver, almost matching the chalice itself. Lifting it to his lips, he tipped his head back and drank, trying not to think about the blood he was swallowing. It was unexpectedly cold, yet burned his throat like Firewhiskey. Managing to drain the potion, he was thankful Lucius reclaimed the chalice immediately.

His body felt oddly heavy with magic, so different than what he’d felt with Draco. Whereas that had left him feeling light and dizzy, this magic was spreading sluggishly through his veins. It needed to be given purpose. Preferably soon.

Feeling the need to lie down, Harry blinked furiously in an attempt to clear the lethargy, only vaguely aware of Lucius healing his hand. He rested both hands on his thighs, digging his nails into the thick velvet of his robes, hoping to keep himself aware of his surroundings. He knew the pain would be coming shortly and he wanted to be prepared for it.

It was a good thing he trusted Lucius, or he would’ve been alarmed with the wand running from the crown of his head to the nape of his neck. It was a silent order to tip his head further forward. His hair was flicked aside, exposing the bare skin. Thankfully his robes had a low collar, because despite being completely sober, he was certain he wouldn’t be able to undo the buttons with his body behaving so listlessly.

The tip of Lucius’ wand began to trace a pattern of runes onto his neck and he braced himself. Getting a Muggle tattoo was a rather painful experience and condensing that process down to the span of sixty seconds and multiplying it by magic was not going to be comfortable.

He stiffened as it began to _burn_ , heating his skin from the inside out and starting at bone-level. Eyes squeezed shut and fingernails digging deeper into his thighs, he called on every focusing technique he knew to keep himself still and to keep from crying out. He’d refused to be bound into position and Lucius had allowed him to do this under his own power. He wouldn’t buckle under the pain.

The magic was dragged with fiery barbs through his body, being called by the spells Lucius chanted. Severus had once said being marked was worse than the Cruciatus Curse. Harry’d had no reason to doubt him before, but now he could unfortunately empathize.

It felt like far longer than a minute before the burning sensation finally began to fade. He stretched the stiffness from his fingers, slowly relaxing some of the tension from the rest of his body as well. As he gradually focused on his surroundings, he was almost surprised not to smell burning flesh.

“Rise,” Lucius commanded.

 _Certainly, Lucius, no fucking problem_ , Harry thought sarcastically. But the lethargy was thankfully gone, sucked up into the spell, and he rose fluidly to his feet. He lifted his head to meet Lucius’ gaze, more surprised by the unveiled concern in Lucius’ eyes than the fact that he felt barely a twinge of pain in his neck. The worry was swiftly replaced by pride and Harry had the urge to hug the man.

Instead, he bowed formally, as tradition dictated. “Thank you,” he said, his voice filled with the gratitude he was feeling.

Lucius bowed in return. “It is my honour to welcome you into my family.”

~*~*~*~

“I’m not going to interrupt,” Harry muttered under his breath as he attempted to shake Lucius’ restraining hand off his shoulder. He felt the weight of Lucius’ stare for a moment, but Lucius didn’t let go.

“You handle your own pain far better than you handle Draco’s pain,” Lucius murmured.

Harry cast him an irritated glare but swiftly returned his focus to the centre of the room. Draco and Severus were conducting the ritual with dignity and he wouldn’t interrupt, no matter how much he wanted to stop it. He watched the crest being burned into the back of Draco’s neck, feeling his own neck tingle in sympathy. Severus’ hand was steady, his face a mask of concentration. Draco’s hands clawed at his robes, but he was otherwise still.

Lucius might have a point, because time seemed to crawl even slower than when he’d been in Draco’s position. He wanted nothing more than to take Draco’s place and it couldn’t be over fast enough. His own body flooded with relief when he finally saw Draco’s body begin to relax.

“I am immensely proud of both of you,” Lucius said, squeezing Harry’s shoulder before finally releasing him. Amusement replaced pride in his voice as he added, “You may go rescue your husband now.”

“You just go take care of my father,” Harry said, both pleased and annoyed as he sent Lucius a parting smirk before striding to the centre of the room to meet Draco.

“All right?” he asked, sliding his arms around Draco protectively.

“Fuck no,” Draco muttered, his eyes dazed. “That hurt.”

Harry met his father’s eyes over Draco’s shoulder, seeing a mixture of regret and pride. “Thank you, Father,” he said quietly.

Severus nodded once in acknowledgement.

“You are aware that I did not want either of you marked in such a manner,” he said solemnly, “but I am deeply honoured to find I have two strong young men as sons when I had believed for a long time that I would never have any children. It is I who should be thanking you.”

He stepped closer and dropped a couple of potion vials in Harry’s pocket. “Drink those,” he ordered. “They will help restore your energy.” He directed a wry smirk towards the table where their friends still sat. “And they are safe to drink with the bottle of scotch Mr. Zabini surely has waiting for you.”

They discovered Severus was correct, watching Blaise pour glasses for them as they approached the table and resumed their seats.

Harry downed the glass, appreciative of the warmth that spread almost instantly, and far more effective than the wine they’d been drinking earlier. He reached into his pocket for the potions and paused.

“Er, Draco?”

Draco turned still rather dazed eyes on him questioningly. Harry pulled back the fabric so Draco could see into his pocket.

A faint flush returned to Draco’s pale cheeks. “Just don’t tell my father,” he said, the corner of his mouth slipping up into a light smirk.

Harry laughed, leaving Draco’s underwear in his pocket and retrieving the potions. Lucius would probably find it amusing that his son hadn’t been completely dressed for the traditional ceremony.

“So, _now_ can I safely take off these bloody robes for the night?”

“Robes,” Hermione said faintly. “You just went through _that_ and you’re worried about robes.”

Harry glanced around the table at their friends. All of them were looking rather pale.

“You can take them off,” Draco answered. “I don’t care if you’re not wearing them for the dancing.” He shifted in his seat and turned Harry to face him, his hands surprisingly steady as he once again began unfastening the row of tiny buttons.

“Are you two all right?” Pansy asked, sounding rather shaky herself.

Harry eyed Draco closely, happy to see that Severus’ potion and the glass of scotch appeared to have done Draco a world of good. His eyes were clear and he wasn’t a deathly white any longer. He was still pale, but it was a natural paleness now.

“We’re fine,” Draco drawled.

“It was like that, wasn’t it?” Blaise asked. “Last year. That’s what you two did for us.”

Harry exchanged glances with Draco, neither of them certain of how to respond. This was why he hadn’t wanted to perform the ritual in front of everyone. There were strong parallels between what had occurred that evening and what had happened with Voldemort the year before.

“Voldemort didn’t Mark us,” Harry said.

“I know,” Blaise said, sounding impatient. “But I just watched you kneel before Lucius Malfoy and . . . and . . . submit yourself. To _pain_. Serious pain. And you did nothing. You weren’t even bound. I know you weren’t. No rope, no spells, no binds of any kind.”

His eyes searched Harry’s imploringly, wanting the truth. “I _saw_ you, Dustin. The first time I realized you were Harry.”

He didn’t appear to realize how odd that just sounded, but neither did anyone else. Harry found the fact that his names were used interchangeably more interesting than the actual subject matter. He didn’t want to talk about the times he’d posed as a Death Eater.

“You were so fucked up and it felt like it took forever for them to heal you, but you just picked yourself up and acted like it was nothing.”

“I didn’t just get right up,” Harry protested. “I was in bed for three days that time.”

“Yeah, but only because it gave you an excuse to stay in bed with Draco,” Blaise said, his voice rising rather shrilly. “Damn it, Dustin! Can’t you just once answer me seriously?”

He waved his arm haphazardly towards the middle of the room. “You did _that_. You subjected yourself to You Know Who. To pain. To humiliation. Gods. _To Voldemort._ Just so we wouldn’t have to be Marked. I know you and Draco went through a lot, but knowing it and seeing it . . . it’s different.”

He looked rather ill. “How could you _do_ that?”

“My friends are more important to me than a bit of pain.”

“A bit?” Blaise squeaked.

“Yes, a bit,” Harry said flatly. “If you had died, that would’ve been a lot of pain.”

Blaise blinked.

Harry waved his own arm towards the middle of the floor. “Do you realize what I got out of that? That was more than worth the pain I went through. I got family. Acceptance. Pride. Traditions. I _belong_. I’m not just married into the family. I _am_ a Malfoy.”

He was speaking with his usual passion, _involved_ in what he was saying. “So what if I can endure a lot of pain. It’s not special in itself. But it does show that I’ve gone through a lot to be where I’m at today. Miserable as pieces of my past were, I wouldn’t go back and change them, because they’ve led me here. I’m _happy_. I’m bonded to Draco. I’m a Malfoy and a Snape and a Potter. And I’ve got my friends – all of them – here with me to celebrate. And, fuck it all, celebrate is what we’re going to do.”

Draco’s hands had been resting on Harry’s shoulders after undoing the buttons while he’d listened closely to what was being said. Now, he pulled Harry towards him, capturing his mouth in a kiss. Harry had new focus for his passion and applied it diligently, deepening the kiss almost instantly, thrusting his tongue into Draco’s mouth.

Draco certainly didn’t appear to mind. He slid the robes off Harry’s shoulders and down his arms until he was free of them, making it easy for Harry to straddle his lap. 

“Please, please, please,” Ron pleaded. “If you’re going to fuck, go back under the table.”

Harry and Draco broke the kiss abruptly, choking on startled laughter.

“One thing’s for certain,” Pansy chirped brightly. “Whatever Draco and Dustin do, they give it everything they have.”

“Nothing halfway,” Hermione agreed, smiling ruefully.

With Harry in Draco’s lap, Blaise slid over into Harry’s chair and leaned against Harry’s back to talk to them.

“So? Celebrate?” His voice was soft, asking for forgiveness for making things uncomfortable.

Surprising both Blaise and Harry, Draco leaned forward and gave Blaise a kiss on the cheek. Apparently he’d surprised himself as well because his eyes widened marginally as he stared at them, their faces only a few inches away with Blaise’s chin resting on Harry’s shoulder.

Harry recovered first and smirked. “Ah, love, are you getting sentimental?”

Blaise sniggered and Draco looked disgruntled. “I’m stuck with you two, aren’t I? It’s bound to rub off now and then. Bloody Gryffindors with their sappy rubbish.”

“Hey!” Blaise protested.

“Give it up, Blaise,” Harry said, laughing. “I’m more Slytherin than you are.”

“Hmpfh, great bloody friends you are.”

Harry turned his head so that he could kiss Blaise on the other cheek, understanding Draco’s urge. “You’re our friend and we wouldn’t know what we’d do without you,” he said seriously.

“I know you hate me saying it, but thanks,” Blaise said.

“I reckon it’s the sort of day for sappy sentiments,” Draco said with a resigned sigh. “You’re welcome. And . . . I agree with Angel. I wouldn’t know what to do if you weren’t hanging around and giving me grief.”

Harry and Blaise grinned. Blaise pecked Harry on the cheek before half standing to get Draco as well.

“Get off me!” Draco protested.

“So, shall I go start some music for you two?” Blaise asked, moving away quickly and grinning like a Cheshire cat.

“Yes, anything, if you’ll go away,” Draco said, back to being disgruntled.

“I do love you, Draco Malfoy,” Harry said, beaming happily.

“Yeah, love you, too,” Draco pouted.

Laughing, Harry stood and pulled Draco up with him. “C’mon, let’s dance.”

~*~*~*~

Harry twirled Hermione around the dance floor, somehow managing to keep both of them on their feet. She was one of many who had fallen victim to the alcohol flowing freely at the reception.

“Harry, stop!” she exclaimed, giggling. “I can’t keep up with you.”

Grinning, he compromised by shifting them into a slow dance, ignoring the fast beat of the current music.

“Better,” she sighed in relief, blinking dizzily.

“Aren’t you having fun?”

“I am,” she said, giggling again. “Everyone is.” She frowned in intense concentration. “I think I’m pissed.”

Harry was so looking forward to teasing her later. “I think you are, too,” he whispered conspiratorially.

“Oh.” She stared at him with wide eyes. “Are you?”

He nodded. “A bit.”

“I’m happy for you,” she blurted out.

He started laughing. “Because I’m pissed?”

“No!” she exclaimed indignantly. “Because you’re happy!” She dared to unlock her arms from around his neck and waved her hand haphazardly. “Because you’re with Draco. I know he’s here somewhere.” She frowned. “Isn’t he?”

Harry looked to the front of the room and locked eyes with Draco, offering him a lopsided grin. Draco shook his head in amusement, indicating he wanted nothing to do with a drunk Hermione. There was open affection in his expression that Harry knew was reserved just for him.

“That’s the look!” Hermione exclaimed.

“What?” Harry asked, turning his attention back to her.

“I know he’s here, because you always look like _that_ when you see him.” She had the air of distinct satisfaction that she’d just solved a puzzle. “You get all sparkly.”

“Sparkly?” he asked incredulously. “I’m not _sparkly_.”

“Yes, sparkly,” she declared, nodding her head for emphasis, which also had the effect of making her stumble and latch back onto his neck.

He grinned again, despite his indignation at being called sparkly. She was going to hate herself in the morning.

“It’s your eyes,” she said solemnly, gravely sharing her discovery. “They get all pretty and sparkly when you see Draco. They’re sparkly even when you’re just talking about him.”

She leaned into him, lowering her voice to a whisper as she peered closely at his eyes. “Say his name.”

“Hermione!” Harry exclaimed, laughing.

“Not _my_ name!” She drew back to chastise him. “You’re supposed to say _his_ name!”

“Gods, you’re pissed!”

“Hey, Hermione,” Seamus said, grinning widely as he sidled up next to them with Blaise. “Come dance with me for a minute, then we’ll go find Ron.”

“Erm, all right.” She allowed Seamus to peel her away from Harry, but she stubbornly refused to go. “Say it.”

“Hermione,” Harry whinged.

“Say it!”

“I love Draco.”

“See, that’s it! Sparkly!”

Harry rolled his eyes as Seamus dragged her away.

Laughing, Blaise swung Harry back into the music. “Draco was right that you needed rescued.”

“I’ve never seen her so pissed,” Harry said in amazement, easily picking up the pace Blaise had set.

“Surprised she’s drinking,” Blaise admitted.

They shared a grin, remembering the party they’d had on Harry’s birthday when she’d refused to drink even a drop of alcohol, afraid of what she’d do if she got drunk. It had been a lot of fun. The entire summer had been fun and Harry felt a flicker of sadness that it was ending.

Blaise caught him around the waist, dancing closer. “No frowning. Draco will kick my arse.”

“And that’s my problem – why?” Harry asked, shaking off the melancholy.

“Because then you’d have no one to dance with.”

Harry sniggered. “I’ve had dozens of people to dance with tonight.”

“Sure, _tonight_ ,” Blaise said. “Like people think you’re special or something.”

“I am,” Harry said haughtily. “I’m a Malfoy.”

Blaise stared for a moment before they both broke down laughing.

“Then why isn’t Draco dancing?” Blaise asked in curious amusement when they’d calmed enough for speech. “He’s a Malfoy, so isn’t he special as well?”

“He’s delegating,” Harry answered promptly.

“Delegating?”

“He’s delegating the work of dancing with all the guests to me and I’ve delegated all the work of chatting up the guests to him.”

Blaise shook his head, grinning. “No question that you two work well together.”

“We do,” Harry said, his eyes searching out Draco again.

“Ready to steal him away?”

“Can I now?” Harry asked hopefully, his eyes darting back to Blaise.

“The party’s still going strong, but it’s getting late enough that you could probably get away with leaving now.”

“Then why the fuck am I dancing with you?”

“Because you needed rescuing from Miss Sparkly,” Blaise retorted.

Harry sniggered. “Yeah. Thanks for that.”

“Any time.”

Ignoring the other guests, Harry headed straight for Draco. Considering that Draco was currently talking with only their fathers, Harry had no qualms about interrupting and straddling Draco’s lap so he could kiss him. Draco didn’t protest, despite the fact that Harry was hot and sweaty from dancing, his arms encircling Harry to pull him closer and deepening the kiss.

“It is a waste,” Severus sneered.

“What is a waste?” Lucius drawled, his amusement loud and clear in his voice.

“You are sending them to Paris for a week and they will see none of the city.”

“You are simply upset because you will miss them and you are worried that they will get into trouble while they are there.”

“I am not,” Severus said indignantly. “I am overjoyed that the impertinent brats will not be underfoot this week.”

“You lie, Severus.”

Severus sighed heavily. “They are too young.”

“Far older than us at their age,” Lucius said. “Although, I find myself jealous of the freedom they have in their youth. You are in desperate need of some of their form of stress relief.”

Harry and Draco started laughing, breaking apart to look at their fathers. Severus was glaring crossly at Lucius, his cheeks flushed a faint red.

While Harry was amused, he also felt guilty. “I’m sorry, Father.”

“For what? Subjecting me to yet another display of your affections?” Severus asked snidely.

Harry didn’t feel _that_ guilty. “No,” he said with a flash of an unrepentant grin before sobering.

“No, for putting you through all this. For all the chaos last year and then everything about the bonding this summer. I really do hope things will be calmer now.”

Severus gave him a flat stare. “Harry, you are beginning the school year with an outrageously large party during which you are serving great quantities of alcohol. You will be leaving shortly, which means I will be the one dealing with the many, many people who will be suffering from being hung over tomorrow,” he said, his tone even and precise. “I fail to see how this represents a calm start for the upcoming year.”

“Lucius is right,” Harry declared. “You’re in serious need of a good snog.”

Severus’ eyes narrowed dangerously.

Harry turned to Lucius. “You’ll take care of him while we’re gone, won’t you?”

“Of course,” Lucius drawled.

“I think it’s time for us to leave,” Draco said, smirking even as he eyed Severus warily.

“I’m ready,” Harry said. He’d been ready anyway and he had the sudden urge to be as far away from his father as possible.

After a quick round of good byes and assurances that they’d see everyone in a week, they Portkeyed directly to their hotel room.

Harry fell backwards onto the bed with a groan, slightly dizzy from the alcohol and the long-distance Portkey travel. “Why is there so much fuss about the wedding night?” he asked. “Once you’ve spent half the day stressed out and the other half celebrating, you’re too bloody tired for anything special.”

“At the risk of sounding ridiculously sappy – again – the special thing about it is that we’re here together,” Draco drawled, working on the buttons of his robes.

Harry propped himself up on his elbows to watch him.

“It’s our first night together as a bonded couple,” Draco continued, “but it doesn’t matter if we don’t do a bloody thing besides sleep.”

“Do you want to sleep?” Harry asked, eyeing the creamy skin slowly being revealed.

Draco glanced briefly at Harry through his lashes before resuming his task. “Eventually.”

“Today was special,” Harry said.

“It was,” Draco agreed with a soft smile, slipping the robes off. “And do you realize that you are a vision, lying in a bed of rose petals?”

Harry blinked. He’d not paid a bit of attention to the room they’d landed in, too busy trying to shake off the dizziness and then watching Draco. Glancing around the opulent room, he realized that Draco was right. There were rose petals everywhere. Surely they were in a Wizarding hotel because there were also dozens of candles floating, providing soft lighting. It was the most romantic setting Harry could’ve imagined. And he couldn’t have cared less.

His eyes returned to Draco. He intended to spend his time admiring Draco, not the room. Draco was beautiful and Harry had to admit that the lighting suited him. At ease in his nakedness, he was carefully hanging his robes before popping open a bottle of champagne.

“You’re mine,” Harry stated, matter-of-fact.

“Forever,” Draco agreed, pouring the champagne into two glasses.

Harry sat up to accept one of the glasses, his other hand sliding around Draco’s back as Draco sat down beside him.

“To us,” Draco said.

“To our future,” Harry added before drinking, his eyes never leaving Draco’s. He did look away, though, blinking in surprise when Draco set his glass down on – nothing. Draco took Harry’s glass from him and did the same thing, setting it down on a cushion of air.

“Hover charms on the glasses,” Draco explained, amused.

Harry stared for a moment before dismissing them, returning his attention to Draco. “I’m overdressed.”

“We’ll take care of that,” Draco murmured, his mouth descending onto Harry’s.

Champagne-flavoured kisses. Harry didn’t think anything had ever tasted better. It was sweet and intense and Draco was his. Forever. It was too much to comprehend, especially when Draco was making quick work of his clothing, touching him everywhere as they continued to kiss.

They had to shift to remove shoes and trousers, but that enabled them to move up on the bed. Naked, Harry had new appreciation for the rose petals. They stuck to his skin, but they were incredibly soft. Draco, once again straddling Harry’s hips, scooped up a handful and littered them across Harry’s chest.

“Did you arrange this?” Harry asked curiously.

“No,” Draco said, shaking his head as he admired the patterns he was creating. “Father arranged everything for our honeymoon. I just asked for someplace you’ve never been before, which pretty much left it wide open, and someplace romantic.”

“I reckon you can’t get more romantic than the city of love,” Harry said dryly.

“Maybe not,” Draco said with a smirk, “but Venice would’ve worked or a tropical island and there are plenty of other romantic cities. However, despite what Severus thinks, we will leave this room at some point and we’ll be going shopping.”

Harry shifted his hips, his hands trailing along Draco’s thighs. “What if I don’t want to go shopping?”

“We’re in Paris, Angel. It’s required.” Draco’s eyes had darkened, though, his lashes fluttering. “I’m going to spoil you.”

“I’d rather you fuck me.”

“I can’t,” Draco said. “I believe you made a promise to Granger that I’d be making love with you tonight. I may be keeping you in Slytherin this year, but I reckon we must recognize your Gryffindor obligations as well.”

Grinning, Harry teased, “And Pansy keeps trying to insist you’re sweet.” He looked at his chest and stomach, covered in rose petals. “Wonder what she’d say about this.”

“She’s not going to find out about this,” Draco warned, his lips twitching in an attempt to suppress his smile. “And neither is Blaise.”

“Blaise would just think this is kinky,” Harry retorted. He frowned thoughtfully. “I think this _is_ a little kinky. I thought they were supposed to just look pretty and romantic, but this feels good.”

Draco resumed his earlier task of touching Harry everywhere, taking advantage and exploring Harry’s confession. Harry couldn’t deny that it felt absolutely amazing as Draco trailed feather soft petals over his skin, heightening his senses. Across Harry’s eyelids. Along his jaw. In the hollow of his neck. Rose petals teased across nipples, making them harden into tight buds. Trailed down Harry’s abdomen, causing him to shiver. Hip to thigh, across his balls and light softness fleetingly soothing the heat of his cock.

They’re just bloody flowers, Harry thought frantically, fighting the desire to plead for Draco to surround his cock with them. He wasn’t supposed to be turned on by _flowers_. Parseltongue. Draco’s kink. That was a manly kink. Flowers? This was so wrong. He squirmed against the bed, feeling the petals shifting silkily against his skin.

“You really like this, don’t you?” Draco murmured.

Harry stared at him helplessly. 

“How can you look so innocent and so sinfully delicious at the same time?” Draco asked, his voice husky with desire.

Harry dragged Draco down for more champagne-flavoured kisses, crushing the rose petals between them. He was done with sweet and tender. He needed Draco _now_. While he knew Draco was aware of his urgency, Harry was going to ensure Draco was just as needy.

He broke the kiss, staring directly into lust-grey eyes. “ _I love you_ ,” he hissed in Parseltongue.

There was a great deal of satisfaction as Draco thrust his hips, grinding their cocks together.

“Fuck, Angel,” Draco groaned. “I can’t do this proper if you do that.”

“ _I don’t give a bloody damn what’s proper_ ,” Harry hissed. “ _I want you in me now_.”

Draco may not have understood the words, but he understood the intent. A quick search for lube and swift preparation and he was sliding into Harry. Harry released a long, low groan as he was stretched and filled. This is how they were meant to be. Connected. Together.

Twining their fingers, Draco pinned Harry’s hands to the bed. He’d obviously found more control than Harry currently had because he managed to keep his strokes even and paced slowly.

“Draco,” Harry pleaded, wanting it faster and harder. “Please.”

“I promised.”

“You’re not supposed to _torture_ me with love,” Harry protested, his breathing heavy.

Draco quirked a smile, which broke his mask of concentration and softened his features. “I do love you, Harry.”

Harry’s breath caught, overwhelmed emotionally and physically. His fingers tightened reflexively around Draco’s, feeling the answering squeeze in return. Merlin, he loved Draco, but if Draco didn’t pick up the pace, he was going to scream.

Between Draco and bloody rose petals, his body was wound tight, aching for release. Draco allowed him to pull one of his hands free, but wouldn’t let him touch himself. Pausing to scoop up a handful of the petals, Draco gripped Harry’s cock.

Oh, bloody hell. It was cool and hot and soft and unexpected and incredible. Harry’s eyes rolled as Draco stroked his cock with a firm grip and thrust inside him with greater urgency. It was enough to send Harry spiralling over the edge, with Draco quickly following.

Draco caught Harry’s mouth in another kiss. “Love you,” Harry murmured against his lips, holding him tightly as his heartbeat slowly returned to normal.

Eventually they both became uncomfortably aware of the sticky, cooling mess between them and moved to clean up. Draco sat up and simply stared for a few seconds before he started laughing.

“Shut up,” Harry said, grimacing as he plucked at rose petals stuck to his skin.

“Roses, Angel? Or would any flower do?”

“Be nice,” Harry muttered. “You’re supposed to love me, remember?”

“I do,” Draco said, leaning over to give him a quick kiss. “I’m looking forward to all the things we’ll discover together.” He smirked. “Even if it involves flowers.”

It was difficult to argue when you were incredibly happy with the overall sentiment behind the words. Harry smiled ruefully. “You’re cleaning this bed before I’m sleeping in it,” he retorted. “And hurry up about it. I’m bloody tired.”

Draco arched a brow. “You think you can just order me around?”

“When you’re laughing at me, yes.”

Draco’s laughter followed Harry all the way to the bathroom, but Harry couldn’t help smiling as he stepped into the shower, knowing Draco would be joining him.

An hour later found them standing on the balcony, sharing a blanket, staring out at the lights of Paris. Harry should’ve been exhausted and, in fact, he was tired but it was a pleasant, comfortable sleepiness. He simply didn’t want the day to end.

“What do you think?” Draco asked, his voice soft.

“It’s beautiful,” Harry said. “Hard to believe we’re going to be here all week while everyone else is starting classes.”

“Mmmm,” Draco murmured his agreement. “Wish we were going to be here longer. You’ll never be able to see everything this week, but we’ll come back next summer.”

“I feel like I’ve lived an entire lifetime already, but I’ve not seen anything.”

“We’re going to see the world, Harry. The world you saved.”

Harry blinked. That was one way to put it into perspective. He stared at the lights spread out below them with a new sense of awe. Never before had he considered just how many people had been affected by his actions, whether they were aware of it or not. But he had not done it alone. He turned in Draco’s arms.

“We’ll see it together?”

“Together,” Draco agreed, sealing the promise with a kiss.

~~Finite~~


End file.
